I Wish I Weren't
by Mickis
Summary: Deep inside, each turtle holds a wish none of them dares to speak. A part of themselves they would much rather be without. Major character study!
1. Donatello

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the turtles and by the looks of it, I probably never will. (sighs deeply)

**A/N:** _When doing that poem on the guys, my mind started wandering. I thought I might as well bring their innermost thoughts to the table, now that I've opened up the infamous can of worms. While some of you may think this suits them, and others might believe it's out of character, it doesn't really matter. Because these are sides of them most of us look upon differently. Different ways we each see them. This is simply _my_ way. Please, if you read this, do leave a review to let me know what you thought of it. I'll try to post the other chapters as soon as possible, felt like starting with Donnie, though._

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I WISH I WEREN'T...

by

Mickis

**Genre: **General/Angst

**Language:** English

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** _Deep inside, each turtle holds a wish none of them dares to speak. A part of themselves they would much rather be without. Major character study!_

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**I Wish I Weren't Invisible**

For as long as I can remember, I've always been on the outside. The outside of the society, the outside of the world, even on the outside of my own family. There are many times where they count me out, even as kids when they took off on their little adventures together. They just assume I wouldn't want to be a part of the group. So as they spend time together, I'm always left on the outside looking in. I'm doomed to observe them through the envious eyes of an outcast.

Was it not for the fact that I'm so different from them - so pacifistic by my nature - things might be different for us, for me. I suppose we all like different things, my brothers and I. But while all their interests are different from each other's, they can at least on some level relate to what the other person likes. With me, with my projects, my studies and my inventions, no one really bothers to understand.

Sure, I am always welcome when any of them need fixing. Be it medical, mechanical or just something they broke by accident. But as soon as I've fixed it for them, they always leave me to myself and move on with their lives. I feel so secluded from them.

It's not that I don't like being alone, because I do. I enjoy it, in fact. It's just... I don't want to be alone _all_ the time.

I have no one to share my interests with, my thoughts and my beliefs on which my entire being is built. I don't believe in violence, unless it comes to extreme situations. I prefer to use my mind instead of my body. Was it not for Splinter, I wouldn't even be practising the art he taught me - ninjitsu. While I have learned to love it and grown up with his lessons and his methods, it is only a second nature to me.

Unlike them.

Mikey is energy personified. Even if he's not so fond of the practise, the teachings and the rules, he's a natural born ninja. I don't think he realizes how good he really is. His weapons are some of the hardest to master. Believe me, I've tried them. And yet when he wields them, it seems like there is nothing more natural to him. Almost like they're a part of his own body, a part of himself.

Raph lives for the fight. I'm positive he would go insane if he wasn't allowed to fight. He's addicted to the kick that comes with it, that rush of adrenaline that course through you every time you engage in a battle with someone, knowing you're risking your very life. He may not have the natural skill for it like Mike does, nor the discipline Leo carries, but his willpower and brutal strength is more than enough to make up for it. He's a warrior.

Leo lives and breathes ninjitsu. He takes every aspect of the art seriously, knowing he's been chosen to carry on with the tradition when Sensei topples. It is his responsibility to make sure we travel on the same path Sensei's led us, even after he's gone. And while Leo might not be very fond of the fighting itself, the bloodshed and the danger that hangs over our family, he finds peace in the training, both mental and physical. He will practise and push himself till he reaches perfection. For perfection is what he always strives for. He is by far the best of us all. His entire being is drunk with the art.

If I could share the passion with them, enjoy myself as much as they do in the dojo, I know the gap between us wouldn't be as wide.

But I can't.

I'm born to stay in my lab, to work behind the scenes, so to speak. And it sometimes makes me feel like an unappreciated housewife. They rarely take the time to thank me for the gadgets and vehicles I supply them with, and my ability to fix their personal belongings is always taken for granted, as if it is something I enjoy doing.

I sometimes feel like that's all I'm good for. That if I couldn't do that, they wouldn't spend any time at all with me. I may not be a warrior like them, but I'm still a person - and I'm their brother. That should at least count for something, right? We grew up together, we share memories and live under the guidance of the same father. Yet even with all those things to keep us united, we're still apart.

They can't see me for who I am. They see me for nothing else but Mr. Fix it, who quietly sits by the sideline, his thoughts and beliefs foreign to their world, uninteresting.

I might have learned Splinter's lessons a little too well, for even in the safety of my own home, I'm still invisible.

While I do need my privacy, I wish they'd visit me every once in a while.


	2. Michelangelo

**I Wish I Weren't Laughable**

The funny one.

Every group has one, whether it's a guy at work, the class clown, or that cliché TV-character created for comic relief. Deep down, they're all the same person. And it doesn't matter how many people they meet or how many lives they touch, each and everyone would still describe them with the same word: 'funny.'

I'm that guy. The guy who doesn't know when to keep his yap shut and cracks some ice-breaking comment whenever there's a weird tension in the room. The dude who's always working on his Bush impersonation to perform later when there's an audience. The same guy who would go to ridiculous extremes, just for the sake of earning a smile from someone. That's me to a T - Michelangelo.

I'm the funny one. And dumb as I am, I always thought that was a good thing.

Every time I made one of my brothers laugh, I took it as a compliment, even if they were laughing _at_ me rather than _with_ me. Important thing was that they were laughing, that they were having fun. Because like any sane person with a heart and a pair of lungs, I prefer my family that way; smiling, happy. And without being aware of it, I made it my job to keep them like that.

I've done it all. The jokes, the funny faces, there are even a few sketches on my résumé. Yeah, maybe they're not so much sketches as they are me making fun of my brothers. But still, it made them laugh, at least. And for a long time, that worked really well. I'm a natural born prankster, so I just made that extra visible, and in return they laughed.

It all balanced out.

Lately though, they haven't been laughing as much. Reality's caught up with us as we've grown up, giving us less reason to laugh. Besides, they've heard all my jokes, a lot of times, actually. And they've gotten tired of them. In return, I'm stuck with that label, them expecting me to be 'funny.' And when growing up like I had, hidden under the city, at war with half of it, you're gonna need someone to talk to at one point or another. Someone to open up to about all the thoughts and feelings that stir up inside of you. There's more to me than just a bunch of jokes, you know. I get scared, worried, sad. Hell, I even get mad from time to time. True, not as often as Raph does. But still... I'm no robot.

Problem is, whenever I've got anything 'not funny' to say, nobody listens. I mean, okay they listen, but they don't really _listen_, you know? They never take me seriously. I've talked to Splinter about it, but he just thinks it's mostly in my head. He says it's my inner fears brought to life by my mind.

It's not, though.

My brothers rarely see me for anything but the clown with the goofy smile and the silly jokes. I know it's a mask I put on myself. No one forced me. But I just never thought I wouldn't be able to take it off.

It's like when you write something on your arm with one of those giant markers, thinking you're gonna be able to wash it off the next time you shower? Turns out you're stuck with the wannabe tattoo for a whole lot longer than that. And as the days go by, you're just liking it less and less, until you end up trying to scrape it off with your fingernails.

'Better just leave it be,' you think. 'It'll wear off by itself.' Well, I'm still waiting for that ink stain to come off. And let me tell ya, it's a stubborn little fellow. So in the meantime, there's not much I can do except make the best of the situation. I might as well get used to the mask and wear it like I did when I first put it on. After all, we've all got our masks to wear. Fancy facelifts that we hide behind.

Leo's got his 'Splinter Junior' mask. Always doing the right thing, saying the right words. Underneath that perfect surface, though, I don't think he's so spotless. He thinks we expect him to be, and because of it, he expects too much from himself. I mean, c'mon, failing is only human. Not that we're _human_ human, but we've inherited that trait, for sure. Even him. Maybe one day his mask'll come off, maybe not. Who am I to guess? I'm still wearing mine.

Raph's mask is pretty obvious. Everyone knows he's nothing but a softie underneath that tough guy attitude he puts up in front of us. And while he'd never admit to it, he's just afraid of being hurt. If there's anybody with trust issues in this twisted little family of ours, he's your guy. It's like every time someone does anything nice for him, he's left wondering what _they_ get out of it. I suppose he can partly open up to me, but I don't think he'll be able to bare himself completely. Because until he learns to trust himself and that temper of his, he'll never learn to trust anyone else entirely.

Donnie, he's tricky. Because he's not really hiding behind a mask as much as he is hiding in his room. Wonder what he's hiding from, though. Us? Unlike the rest of us, who're hiding our _own_ faults from the world, Donnie's just hiding from the world. While he's a part of the team, fights the fight, walks the walk and talks the talk, he's just not really there like the rest of us. He pulls away, into himself. I guess he feels different from us; his gadgets and hippie-like nature, but when it all comes down to it, we're still the same. We came from the same glass jar and grew up with the same father.

We're brothers.

Besides, he's not that different from us. We're _all_ hiding, for one reason or another.

I just wish I could crawl out from under the bed and keep a straight, non-goofy face in front of my brothers. And when the time comes, when I find the strength to do that, I need them to take me seriously. If I'm mad and need to yell at them, I want them to listen. If I'm worried and need to confide about something, I want them to be there. And more importantly, if a day goes by without me cracking any jokes, I need them to accept that.

The way it is now, they all act like there's something wrong if I don't play the part of the clown. They're all: 'What's the matter, Mikey?' 'Are you okay, Mikey?' 'You're not coming down with something, are you?' I don't think that's fair. I don't go around asking Raph if he's got the flu, just 'cause he hasn't trashed any of our furniture. And if I did, I'd probably earn a slap on the head for it, knowing Raph right.

All I'm asking is a little respect. Kinda like in the song. Just 'cause I'm funny, that shouldn't mean they can't take me seriously. I mean, c'mon, how many people out there are walking around, feeling just one feeling all the time, and displaying the same mood, day in and day out? That's right! No one's _that_ stereotypical! I want them to see that.

I'm still gonna work on my impersonations, though. I like it when they laugh, and I like being the dude that makes them laugh. What can I say? I'm addicted to the attention. I like it.

But while I want them to laugh, I still wish they'd look past that and see me for the turtle I am.


	3. Raphael

**I Wish I Weren't Unreachable**

I know that if it was one thing I could do without, it'd be my regrets. Feels like they're always there, makin' me feel sorry for my family, for treatin' 'em like I do. For years, it's been weighing me down. I'm carrying unresolved issues for an entire lifetime. Me not opening up to anyone is what has made me the person I am.

I wouldn't be as troubled and so damn dark if I would've talked to someone from time to time. I wouldn't be so pessimistic if I'd've let someone show me the good things in life. I guess I just didn't wanna see it. I wanted to be dark. I wanted to be angry. I kinda enjoyed being closed off from everything good in a sorta sick, masochistic way. It was a part of who I was. Cuz I 'm Raphael, the dark one. And I had no problem with that.

I mean, all kids go into a funk when they reach puberty. All kids feel like no one in the entire world understands them. It's only human to reach that part in your life where you hate just about everything and spend most of your time feelin' sorry for yerself - and that's fine. As long as you grow out of it in a few years.

I never did.

When the time came, and I was able to recognize help when it was offered - I still didn't want it. I wanted to be dark, misunderstood. It was all I knew. I mean, if I didn't have my anger, what else would there be left of me? It's like I've been angry for so long, I don't know how to act differently. So I told off whomever tried to help me and crawled back inside my shell, where I could be left alone with my tortured thoughts.

They've all reached out to me, mostly Master Splinter. But I've sent 'em all away. I didn't want their help. I didn't need it. If there was something wrong with me, I'd be able to take care of it by myself. I know I wasn't raised like that, but I believed accepting help would be admitting failure. The same with tears, I considered 'em a weakness.

I've never cried in front of anyone.

Okay, so maybe 'never' is a little too strong. But I can honestly say that since the age of ten, I've never cried in front of my family. It's not that I don't cry. I do, just like everyone else. Maybe not that often, if you know what I mean? But I've definitely cried. The difference with me is that I do it by myself. I don't want people to see that weak, uncontrolled part of me. I get all soft and mushy when I cry, and that's not the type of person I wanna be. It ain't the person I am.

Worst thing I knew as a kid was when I got hurt and started crying, and someone would try to comfort me. Splinter always came up to me, all worried and shit, and asked me what was wrong. It's just that unlike my brothers, I didn't want his help. Whatever it was, I could take care of it by myself. I guess I wanted him to act like there was no problem at all, like I weren't even cryin' in the first place. Every time those damn tears fell, I silently wished he wouldn't make a big deal about it. I wanted him to mind his own business and ignore my pain. But he just kept insisting he'd help me. He's my father, so I guess it was only natural for him to wanna comfort me. And finally, I accepted that.

So as I got older and wiser, I stopped cryin' in front of him. I learned that if I was alone, no one would come and bother me about my tears. If I locked myself up in my room, no one came up to me to comfort me. Eventually, the tears always ended by themselves. I didn't need anyone to dry them for me.

I guess most of us have some trouble when it comes to showing our innermost feelings, admitting pain. Even if none of my brothers have as much trouble with it as I do, they all chose specific parts of themselves they want the world to see.

Leo never had any problems with cryin' as we grew up. He was always the first to crawl up in Splinter's lap for comfort. But as we got older, he kinda stopped. I guess now that he's been chosen to be our leader, he doesn't see it fitting anymore. I mean, what would it look like in war if the captain of the troop suddenly collapsed on the field and started bawling? I guess just like that stern captain, Leo tries to set an example for his younger brothers. He wants to be strong for us. Although we all know he ain't no Superman. So what's the point in pretending he is?

Donnie doesn't cry that much. Not even as a kid. But the few times he's cried, he's never felt it necessary to hide his tears. I suppose he's not ashamed of them like Leo and myself. When you look at it that way, he is perhaps the strongest of us all. If he's happy - he laughs. If he's angry - he mops. If he's sad - he cries. Most of the time though, he's none of the above. Donnie's temper is very even. Usually takes a lot for him to reveal any kind of extreme emotion. But like I said, it's not that he's ashamed or anything, it's just who he is. He's very balanced.

Then there's Mikey. That guy ain't never had any problems with showin' his tears. In fact, when we were kids, it was like there was no end to them. He'd cry for anything - _all_ the time. And if he wasn't cryin', then he'd be laughing. It's like there wasn't any in-between when it came to him. Still isn't. Though he doesn't cry as much as he did when he was younger, luckily. Nowadays, he usually whines if he's not joking around. The only emotion I feel he's never been able to pull off is anger. It's not that he doesn't get angry. I've seen him get angry. I know he has it in him. But he just kind of suppress it and move on. I keep waiting for him to blow, and I know it'll come. Sooner or later, he won't be able to keep it inside - and he'll burst. Wouldn't wanna be around when that moment comes. Think about it. Nineteen years of pent-up anger. You should probably stay clear of that.

Then there's me.

I hurt by myself. I suppose I even love by myself. Any deeper, messier emotion stays within me, where no one else can see it. I know it's stupid. It's stupid as hell! What's the point of having emotions if you never show 'em? It's just... I've been doin' it for so damn long - hurting in secret - it happens on reflex. Whenever a hand is offered, I just automatically slap it away.

Well, I'm tired of bein' angry. I'm sick of bein' alone. I don't wanna be closed and troubled. I wanna be open. I wanna be honest. I wanna get rid of the baggage I've been carryin' for all these years. Cuz there is a huge difference between memories and burdens. Suppressed pain is nothin' but a burden. Nothing good comes with it, and I'm sick of carrying it around on my shoulders.

Only now, I've pushed 'em away so many times - my whole life to be exact - they've gotten tired of it. It's not that they've stopped tryin'. They still reach out when I'm hurting. Especially Leo, he never did know when to mind his own business. The difference is now when I reject him, he gets mad. Actually, _furious _would be more like it. He's tired of getting the cold shoulder. They all are. And so in result, they blow up in my face about it, telling me I'm not any different from the rest and that I need to get over myself.

They're right.

I need to and I really want to, as well. I want the courage I need to take the hand that's reachin' out for me. I wanna be able to accept help when it's offered. But it's like I've been closed up in myself for so damn long, I don't know how.

I'd have to start fresh. I'd have to tear the walls down and build myself up from the very first brick. I know it ain't somethin' I'd be able to change overnight. It would take some time, years, even. But hopefully, I'll find the strength to try. And for the first time in my entire life, I'd actually need their help with it.

Because while I might still push them away, I wish they wouldn't push back.


	4. Leonardo

**A/N:** _Thank you all for reviewing this little fic of mine, they really do mean a-helluva-lot to me. It was a fun journey to get inside the deep and conflicted heads of our guys - and also - very educaional. I hope you'll drop a reivew after reading this last chapter. Thank you._

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**I Wish I Weren't Responsible**

My master once told me something I've found myself looking back on constantly, especially since he passed away. Every time a decision has to be made, and I can't lean back on his experience and guidance, I silently repeat the sentence in my mind.

I am my worst enemy.

It's true. I'm in charge of taking care of my family; I'm the one he chose to lead them. Meaning, if we were ever to walk into a trap, I'm the one who led us into it. What I say goes. Not that they don't question my orders, because they do. But deep down, they trust me to do the right thing, they trust their big brother to have the answers – even Raph, whether he'd admit to it or not.

They trust me with their lives.

I don't know if you've ever had that kind of responsibility to carry. I mean, not that I question I wouldn't do everything in my power to keep them from getting hurt. I'd never do anything to risk their well being, not intentionally. But what burdens me is that I'm not perfect. My orders to them is never a guarantee I'll lead them out of the storm in once piece, yet somehow they trust I will. Every time we head into battle together - after I've revealed my strategy to them - they always give me this look, this sense of trust shining through their loyal eyes. Each time they do that, they faithfully place their lives in my bare hands, and I'm left holding their safety like a fragile crystal vase, fearing any movement on my part might break it.

A trust of that proportion can really wear a person down. Each time I give one of my orders, I silently question whether I've made the right decision or not. Me making the wrong choice would be the end of us all. I would literally send my own brothers to their doom. And the thing is, whenever I'm insecure about my choice, I can't ask them about it. I'm forced to keep a straight face in front of them, especially when on the field. I can't have them running off into battle, questioning the authority of their leader. They need to _believe_ I have it all planned out, or else there'd be no reason to listen to me in the first place. And so in order for them to keep a clear mind in the chaos, I have to sacrifice mine.

I don't feel worthy of their trust. I know of my insecurities, I know of my flaws and I'm certain there will come a fight that all of us won't be able to recover from - not only because of me lacking some of the qualities Sensei had, but because we're destined to run out on the luck we've been blessed with so far.

And so each time they hand over their lives to me, I fear _that _time will be the moment I fail them.

I don't know how he did it, Master Splinter. When raising the four of us, he must've been out of himself with worry. Not only did he have four lives to protect, but he had four individuals to shape. And so based on our birth given qualities, and using our personalities in making his decision, he chose me to be their leader, their protector.

I've always been their big brother, yet there's no more truth in that than there is calling Mikey the youngest. In fact, we're all the same age. We celebrate our birthday on the same day - or actually, we celebrate the day he found us. The point is, he never treated us differently, even though some of us took their time to mature. No, what labeled me as the oldest and Mike as the youngest was no one but ourselves. I instinctively looked after them, worried about them - and so I was made 'big brother.' Well, that and the fact that I always obeyed Sensei.

Michelangelo always pulled pranks on the rest of us, and took any opportunity he could get to push Master Splinter's patience, all with a playful flicker in his eyes. Naturally, he was named the youngest.

But when growing up, even while playing the part of the oldest, I never really felt any reason to worry about them to the extent that I do now. I never had any reason to search for flaws in myself, because I was just a kid; a kid who happened to be a tad more responsible than his brothers. But when going from 'unofficial big brother' to 'chosen leader' all of that drastically changed.

I was fourteen when Sensei announced his decision. We all knew he'd been thinking about it, since he'd been pushing us harder and harder during practice. We sensed our training had gone from a way of life to a fatal necessity in those past few months. We were getting older, and Master knew he wouldn't be able to keep us from the world forever. And so he announced his choice and picked me as the leader of our modest clan.

There had of course been discussions amongst us about it, theories about who he'd pick – and why. All of them taunted me, saying: who'd better to get picked for leader than Splinter Junior himself? Raph's teasing was the worst; he had so many crude names for me, he could write an entire book about it, listing them from A to Z. And yet when the moment came and the decision was made official, he looked genially… envious, for the lack of a better word. I mean, he was upset, that was one thing for certain. But he didn't look hurt or anything. He looked angry, a maybe even a little bit betrayed. I know I've never said this to him, and he certainly hasn't told me about it, but I honestly think he'd been secretly whishing Sensei would pick him, or at least hoped he would. Maybe just to take the title away from me, or maybe he really wanted the responsibility, I really don't know. But he did want the title, at least back then.

Now, though, while I feel most of them can get really tired of me bossing them around, knowing our father left it in my power, I don't think any of them is up for trading roles.

Donatello hates conflict and avoids it at any cost. I don't think he'd feel comfortable handing out orders like I do, especially at the risk of someone refusing. No, I've always felt he's found his place in the background, doing what he does best away from the spotlight – inventing, researching. It's not that he'd be a bad leader, I'm certain he would take the job if it was handed to him, and his ability to understand and empathize with the rest of us would surely come in handy. But, I'm just as sure he doesn't want it.

Michelangelo, he's probably the most unlikely out of the four of us. It's like I said, he's the youngest, and not in age – but in spirit. He wants to live his life like a carefree child. Too much responsibility would weigh heavy on him, and perhaps risk putting out that beaming light about him that we all love so much, despite what we might tell him. You see, Mikey, he's too indecisive by nature, or perhaps by upbringing? I mean, dress the cat like a dog, treat him like dog and call him a dog and he's most likely gonna think he's a dog. But whatever the reason is for Mike's inability to make a quick decision, he wouldn't do well in calling the shots on the field. Don't get me wrong, with time I'm sure he'd learn, he would definitely brush up for the task if he had to, knowing it would save the lives of his brothers. But like I said, he wouldn't want the responsibility.

Then there's Raph. It's funny, despite his cold attitude, I think he'd handle the job better than the other two. Sure, he might be a little impulsive and thoughtless from time to time... okay, so most times. But I really feel he'd give himself a big, fat punch in the face if he knew he had to do it for the safety of his family. He's got a lot more discipline than he gives himself credit for, he really does. But even if he might be able to make a decent leader, it still doesn't change the fact that he doesn't want to.

In truth, none of us does. It's a heavy job to handle; it weighs down on you like a big rock someone dumped on our shoulders to carry. But I wouldn't give it up for anything. Not because I like it, because I don't, even though I've grown accustomed to the part, my thoughts and actions having melted together with it. No, I wouldn't want to give it up, because I wouldn't want _them_ to have to carry the burden in my place.The responsibilty can drive you to the point where you think you're going insane, sometimes even consume you from the inside out with its destructive flames.

I would never put my family through that.

I don't care if I'll lose my sanity in the drowning sea of insecurity - in which I'm always standing knee-deep - I'll still carry the task; I'll carry it with pride. It is what my father wanted, and it is what_ I _want to spare them.

But even though I might play the part of their leader, I sometimes wish they wouldn't trust me so wholeheartedly. Because I am merely doing just that: playing a part.


End file.
